58 
THE DUELLISTS 
 
 
Just this !  you allow, you forbid, you excite me 
As you think just enough to enslave me ;  you slight me 
 As you think may just pique me ;  a temperance revel !   
As if such a red little beetle could bite me !   
 
I see, and I laugh in my sleeve at, the game. 
I have played it myself—the rules are the same. 
 But it cannot be played on an expert, my pretty !   
You forget that the Jinn are the children of flame !   
 
Without and beyond and above I abide. 
Every move I foresee ;  I foretell every tide, 
 The eclipse and the comet, the oiled and the gritty, 
I know it by heart—and the balance beside !   
 
Come close !  let me suck out your lips as in languor !   
Stand off !  while I cringe at your towering anger !   
 I’ll grip you and shake you and weep at your knees— 
Mere flames of the foil-play, its clatter and clangour !   
 
Your one joy—your pride in your cleverness, maybe !   
My one joy—you think you are gulling a gaby, 
 And at last, when you strike to the heart—if you please !   
I riposte with the lightning-flash—“ Pens’-tu, mon Bébé ? ” 
 
You fool—I will ruin you, turn you adrift, 
Kick you and spit—you are done !  you may shift 
 For yourself as girls do—on the streets, on the quays, 
Till no sot will touch you for a crust or a gift.